


Gold Satin Ribbon

by missmichellebelle



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, scrapbooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:21:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine has a spring in his step for the rest of his shift, remembering the way their fingers had grazed as Blaine had handed Kurt the thick, gold, satin ribbon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Satin Ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Nothing But Notes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/790281).

After the initial contact, Blaine looks forward to every shift of work he has on the chance that Kurt might come in again. He jerks to attention at every ring of the bell, and he smiles a little goofily at the glitter display, and he comes up with a hundred different ways to start a conversation with Kurt.

Unfortunately, the next time Blaine sees Kurt is only two weeks before Christmas. Even though Blaine had been sure that  _Nothing But Notes_  would avoid the cliché of a Christmas rush, he is quickly being proven wrong. It seems that no store, even in Lima, can avoid the frantic hoards of holiday shoppers. It’s during one of the peak times when Blaine can’t afford to look up at every jingle of the bell, when he’s talking up products and helping people choose gifts, when he does run into Kurt again, almost completely by accident.

He’s waving away an older woman, who is clutching a bundle of painstakingly selected Christmas cards, when he turns to find another customer to assist and Kurt is  _right_ there. It takes Blaine aback for a moment, and he hesitates before reminding himself that this is his job; it isn’t strange for him to help Kurt if Kurt needs help.

(Please need help.)

“Planning another wedding?” Blaine asks, striding over to where Kurt is browsing spools of twine. He starts at first, the way anyone would when someone starts speaking to them without being expected, and then turns to look at Blaine with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Always,” Kurt replies, haughtily, standing up and plucking two different spools of twine from the rack. “Although I have to admit my wedding planning skills aren’t in very high demand.”

“What a shameful use of resources.” Blaine rocks a bit on the balls of his feet and grins, and Kurt’s smile pulls a little bigger. “I’m glad to see it hasn’t stopped you, though.”

“Well, one can never be too prepared. Weddings are easier to plan when I can pull color palettes out of my scrapbook.”

Blaine’s ears perk at the word scrapbook—Kurt  _scrapbooks_. Kurt is the only other person Blaine’s age (and he is Blaine’s age, right?), the only other  _boy_ , that Blaine has ever met who  _scrapbooks_.

 _You are my soulmate_.

“Well, if I ever know someone in need of an emergency color palette, I’ll let them know who to call,” Blaine supplies, smoothly, locking his internal swooning behind the smile on his lips. “I have to say that I don’t quite get the twine, though.”

Kurt had been smiling, lips parted just slightly until Blaine could catch the slightest peek of teeth; he blinks, as if waking himself out of a daze, and cocks his head to the side.

“Sorry?”

“The twine.” Blaine gestures at the products in his hands. “Then again, I’m sure you know more about wedding schemes than I do.”

“Oh!” Kurt looks down at his hands and flushes, laughing sharply out of surprise. “No, these aren’t for weddings. I’m actually here to buy wrapping material, but I think I might go with ribbon instead.” He slots the twine back onto the rack, and Blaine smiles in a pleased way to see that Kurt put it exactly where he found it.

“Thank you,” Blaine finds himself saying, and Kurt looks up in surprise. “You’re negating my job, but thanks.”

“No problem.” Kurt looks bashful even as he says it, and Blaine watches the slow batter of his eyelashes with a look he hopes isn’t as moony as it feels. “But if I’m killing your livelihood, I can go ahead and mess it all up for you?”

Without thinking, Blaine’s hand shoots forward to close around Kurt’s elbow just as he starts moving his hand towards the twine again.

“No!” It isn’t too loud, and it’s said as a blurt more than a shout, but Kurt doesn’t seem to notice either way. Kurt is staring at Blaine’s hand on his elbow, and now Blaine is staring at his own hand on Kurt’s elbow. Blaine is holding Kurt’s elbow.

He withdraws his hand quickly, feeling the heat on the back of his neck, and stammers an apology. When he chances a glance away, he notices Mary and Sara watching him from the registers. They turn away quickly, but Blaine thinks he sees them giggling.

“Um,” Blaine clears his throat, and when he looks back, he’s hoping that his embarrassment is under control. “So ribbon?”

“I know where the ribbon is, Blaine.”

Blaine knows Kurt knows where the ribbon is.

“Yes, well, what kind of employee would I be if I didn’t help you through your selection?”

_Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we?_

“Shall we?” It takes more effort than Blaine will ever admit not to offer his arm to Kurt.

Kurt does buy ribbon—red, white, silver, and gold.

Blaine has a spring in his step for the rest of his shift, remembering the way their fingers had grazed as Blaine had handed Kurt the thick, gold, satin ribbon.

*

“Blaine?”

The next time Blaine sees Kurt, Blaine is waiting in line for coffee at the Lima Bean and is most certainly not in his work apron. In fact, the lack of uniform makes Blaine tug at his cardigan in a self-conscious way, but he smiles despite how suddenly nervous he feels.

Kurt already has coffee, and he’s standing with a short, dark-haired girl who is gripping his elbow.

Blaine feels like his stomach just plummeted into his shoes.

“Kurt,” Blaine responds, his smile slightly forced. He’s unprepared to talk to Kurt outside of work. He’s also sorrowfully unprepared for his heart to get crushed under the heel of Kurt’s very stylish boots. “I like your boots,” he says without thinking, suppressing a grimace. When he looks back up, Kurt looks surprised and the girl is grinning, eyes flicking back and forth between them like she’s watching a pingpong match.

“Thanks.” Kurt sounds pleased, but still looks surprised, and for a moment he sort of just looks at Blaine while Blaine looks back. That is, until the girl elbows him sharply in the side. Kurt snaps a glare in her direction, and she just looks at him expectantly; he sighs in a resigned way. “Blaine, this is Rachel—”

“The best friend,” she provides, holding out her hand, and Blaine shakes it unsurely. Wait— _best friend_. Not  _girlfriend_.

Blaine feels like he might melt to the floor of the coffeeshop.

“Nice to meet you, Rachel.” Rachel, the best friend. Not Rachel, the girlfriend.

“The pleasure is  _all_  mine,  _really_.”

Kurt glares at her again, and she smiles sweetly back at him, and Blaine suddenly feels as if he’s missing out on an important component in this interaction.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Kurt turns back to him, and Blaine laughs a bit. “I was beginning to think you lived at Nothing But Notes.”

“I wish,” Blaine says, a little too quickly and a little too wistfully, but it only makes Kurt look a little confused (and, mostly, it makes him smile at Blaine). “But coffee is my true love, and it always lures me away.”

The line has inched forward, and people are starting to come up behind Blaine, so he makes a dramatic head gesture towards the opening in the line before he moves into it, grateful when Kurt and Rachel follow him.

“She’s quite the siren, I’ll have to agree.”

“So Blaine!” Rachel suddenly says, and her voice is very loud for so small a person. “Did you have plans this afternoon?”

Blaine draws his eyes away from Kurt and looks at Rachel, eyebrows furrowed and unsure.

“No, I—”

“That’s perfect! You see, Kurt and I had plans, but I completely forgot this voice lesson I had planned.”

“What voice lesson?” Kurt growls, and Rachel looks at him in exasperation.

“The one I told you about! Anyways,” she turns back to Blaine and ignores the way Kurt is basically glaring daggers at her. “I feel horrible, leaving Kurt here all alone. Would you mind keeping him company for me?”

“Rach—”

“I’d love to.” Blaine wants to bite it back as soon as he’s said it, because Kurt immediately tenses and turns to look at Blaine as if he’s suddenly grown an additional head.

“Really?” His voice is suddenly so much quieter, surprised again.

“Well, yes, but if you’d prefer—”

“He doesn’t,” Rachel cuts in, grinning at Kurt and then reaching forward to pat Blaine on the arm. “I really owe you.” She beams at him, and then her smile softens when she looks at Kurt. She squeezes Kurt’s arm and then says a quiet, “Call me later?” and he nods as she turns and leaves the coffee shop.

Which leaves Kurt alone with Blaine.

And Blaine alone with Kurt.

And  _oh god_ , Blaine really has no plans for the day, how long exactly are they going to spend together?

“You don’t have to, you know,” Kurt says, glancing at the front of the line rather than at Blaine. “I’m used to being alone.”

He says it as if it doesn’t mean very much, but it still sits on Blaine uncomfortably.

“No one should be used to that,” Blaine responds, his voice quiet, and he can see the tense line in Kurt’s shoulders. It feels like a tipping point, and Blaine takes a deep breath and faces forward in line as well. “Besides.”  _Deep breath_. “I want to.” He casts a glance in Kurt’s direction. “I wouldn’t say I wanted to stay if I didn’t.”

They’re next in line, and Kurt is smiling and looking at the floor and Blaine finds it incredibly endearing.

“Do you need another coffee?” He asks, and Kurt glances up. “My treat.”

Kurt opens his mouth to answer, closes it again, and then says, “Sure,” in a slightly breathless voice. Blaine nods.

They step up to the counter, and Blaine pulls out his wallet.

“Can I get a medium drip, and…” He looks at Kurt, and Kurt smiles back shyly.

“A grande nonfat mocha?” He seems unsure, as if Blaine’s offer for coffee might have disappeared from the table in the last thirty seconds. But Blaine just turns back to the barista behind the register, repeating Kurt’s order for emphasis.

“A grande nonfat mocha.”


End file.
